Hangover
by kiista
Summary: A sequel to 'Wine.' What happens after the third bottle is opened? Will there be regrets the next day? Things always look different by the light of day. A teaser with more to come.


Have you ever woken up with regrets about your behavior the night before? A three-shot sequel to 'Wine.'

* * *

The light began to stream into the east-facing room far earlier than Victoria was ready.

With a groan, Victoria rolled to her side and pressed a hand to her temple. _Why does the sun have to be so bright? _The lace curtains did almost nothing to keep the light out of the well-appointed room. She opened one eye and noted the heavy velvet curtains on the canopy had not been pulled closed. She squinted both eyes shut again when she remembered how she got into the bed, and a smile played at her lips in spite of her pounding headache.

She knew she would have to get out of bed and face the day, but moving at all seemed like a formidable challenge. _Oh, I never should have had that last glass of Cava. _She pressed her fingertips to her eyes and groaned softly. She wondered what time it was, and if the others were awake yet. She also wondered if they felt as miserable as she.

A particularly cheerful bird chirped obnoxiously outside the nearest window. It looked as though it was a perfectly lovely morning, and she was not at all capable of enjoying it.

On the bedside table was a glass of what appeared to be juice, with a note carefully propped next to it.

_Querida, _

_For your headache. _

- _Diego _

Victoria smiled at his thoughtfulness, and then quickly drank it down before collapsing back on the tatted lace pillow. Sleep claimed her again.

**-Z-**

Diego rolled over in his bed and winced at the sunlight streaming in the window. He'd not felt this way since university. _A good reminder to stay away from the grape_, he thought. He squinted his eyes shut.

Had yesterday really happened? His aching muscles told him yes. He hadn't dreamt of nearly dying under a rock pile in the canyon, or of fighting Risendo in the garden, or of the dinner last night with his father and Victoria and all that wine. The wine. His eyes flew open. _Victoria! _His pulse quickened as he remembered her rising from her seat and standing next to him. He had honestly no idea what she would do to him, but the feeling of relief that flooded his chest when she'd kissed him was as strong this moment as it had been when she'd placed her hands on his face. _She knows now. She knows, and she accepts me. _The memory of that kiss, and everything that came after it, helped lessen the pounding of his head.

He reached for the glass that he'd placed on the nightstand and quickly drank down the amber liquid. It was an old remedy from his university days: after an evening of overindulging, the students would drink wine mixed with juice and salt. It did not taste as bad as he'd remembered. He had not often had a reason to drink it in the past, but was glad he'd thought to mix one for himself and Victoria. He'd not been so generous with his father, but he hoped that meant the older don might stay in bed longer and give he and Victoria some time alone this morning.

_She's just down the hall, in bed, and she knows. _Diego leaned back into his pillows and considered this. He drew in a long breath and draped an arm over his eyes. Leaving her last night had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done. She had been so willing, and the wine had further loosened his resolve. He was surprised, however, that even in the light of day with a clear head, he still had to talk himself out of slipping into her room. That she loved and wanted him-Diego-had instantly dissolved the steely determination he'd had for years as his masked alter ego. He realized that much of the reason he was quick to flee when they were alone together was due to his fear of her reaction if she discovered who he really was. Now, with that fear finally pushed aside, he found her more irresistible than ever. And he had no reason to leave anymore.

Diego had always imagined that it might be a challenge to behave like a gentleman with Victoria once Zorro was no longer an excuse for him to dash off, but he had not been prepared for just how difficult it would be, especially after several glasses of wine. There was something about holding her and kissing her as himself that made everything seem more real, and made other things seem possible. It was taking nearly all his willpower for him to remain where he was rather than slipping down the hall into the guest suite.

He took another deep breath and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He needed to behave, to be a gentleman. But the thought of her warm, soft body under the sheets just down the hall was making it difficult. Recalling the last moments of their time together last night wasn't helping, either.


End file.
